Richard Crashaw

Euthanasia - Poem by Richard Crashaw

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Wouldst see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguileAge? wouldst see December smile?Wouldst see nests of new roses growIn a bed of reverend snow?Warm thoughts, free spirits, flatteringWinter's self into a spring?In sum wouldst see a man that canLive to be old, and still a man?Whose latest and most leaden hours,Fall with soft wings stuck with soft flowers;And, when life's sweet fable ends,Soul and body part like friends;No quarrels, murmurs, no delay -A kiss, a sigh, and so away.This rare one, reader, wouldst thou see?Hark hither! - and thyself be he.